


Eight Ways To Make Love To Juvia

by liamneeson



Series: Eight Ways [1]
Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Relationship Development, smut series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-05-23 12:47:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6116933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liamneeson/pseuds/liamneeson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sexual diary on how to please your lady, as per Gray's experiences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eight Ways To Make Love To Juvia

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to upload this here because I'm slowly backing everything I have up on ff.n in here. Fairy Tail belongs to Hiro Mashima. This was inspired by the poem Eight Ways To Say I Love You.

> _**un** _

The first way, and probably the most important way is to make love to her with your eyes, as you praise her form that was once developing but now all woman. She is not undressed before you (yet), but with that look you're giving her, she might as well be. When she chances upon your wanton gaze, watch that pretty pink tinge dust above her nose. Make sure your intent is clear as you pin her with lust-glazed eyes.

> _**deux** _

Slowly, tender. It her first time, and yours as well.

Endeavor to make her feel good about the body she's always been shy of. Pay attention to her. Touch her everywhere: where does she like to be touched? You will know this when she squirms as you press your lips against her pulse, or when she shivers as your hand ventures downwards. Those sounds she tries to suppress by turning her face into her pillow should tell you what you need to know. When you're sure her inhibitions are out the window, ease in, lavishing her with affection as she begins to tense up because it hurts. Make it not hurt, it's the least you can do after she's offered you this experience. Make it good for her, soothe her. Rub nervous hands along her thighs. Kiss the tears that fell when she squeezed shut her eyes. Whisper your love until that grimace turns into unsure smiles. Be patient; she's still getting used to the feel of you. While you wait, worship her with kisses. Tell her you love her, again. When she finally tells you to move, do it slowly. Her face begins to twist in pain again, but then her mouth hangs open as the tiny sparks of the pleasure she'd heard of ignites in her. You hear her shaky moan, and your heart soars. You test a faster speed, and she tries to match your pace but both of you are clumsy, still. Laugh about it, it's okay. But now, you have to concentrate. Sweat beads on your brow and she is quick to lick it away, making that heat expand in your belly. Ask her if she's feeling good, if she's close. When she honestly shakes her head, don't feel disappointed. Work harder to bring her there. Your thrusts get more erratic but your combined pace is laughable, still very awkward. You're only sixteen; you barely know what you're doing and all the porn you watched with Natsu didn't prepare you for this. There were no hour-long erections or horse-like stamina, like advertised. You finish before she can, and you collapse on her, feeling your energy abandon you like the spurts of yourself you leave in her warmth. "It's okay," she comforts you before you can apologize. She tells you she's heard girls don't really come during the first time. She's glad you did, though, she admits with a cherry tint staining her cheeks. You kiss languidly despite yourself before rushing to the bathroom for a wet cloth to offer her. There is blood sprinkled along the insides of her thigh, and not without guilt, you watch her wipe it off. "It's okay," she repeats with a blithe laugh. Before you can stop yourself, you promise her the next time will be better.

She holds you to it.

> _**trios** _

Hands are tools that are monumental to pleasure. This is something you are slowly beginning to understand. You are fully clothed, a stark contrast to Juvia who is without a stitch. You have a moment to think she's so beautiful laying there on your bed, wearing nothing but a blush. She tells you to go on and stop staring, it's embarrassing. Warmth pools into your gut as you stroke all over her, vigilantly watching her face as your cold hands glide over her form. When you are feeling brave enough, delve curious fingers into her wet heat and watch her mouth hang open as you work some magic into her. It's okay to constantly ask her if she's liking it, or how she likes it. She is too shy to show you what she really wants, but she assures you you're doing an excellent job on your own. It doesn't take long for her cries to get just a little bit louder, and this alarms you somewhat because your dumbass old man is just downstairs watching baseball with your mother. You make shushing noises, but your fingers and motions don't ease up and poor, poor Juvia is about to combust. She bites on her lip, a rewarding sight. There is proof of her delight in your hand now.

> _**quatre** _

Do it ferociously. She's been flirting with another guy all night, and you need to remind her who she belongs to. You fight with her, rage and jealousy and lust swirling like a mad cocktail in your gut.

The moment the door to your apartment bangs shut, your greedy mouth is on hers, then everywhere. You waste no time; hand reaching up her skirts and ripping away that pathetic swath of black lace. When your fingers feel she isn't wet enough for what you have in mind (and you had a lot), you expertly find her clit and swirl. She throws her head back, the first of many cries tearing through her as she grinds against your hand, not unlike how she had pressed and moved against Lyon. Remembering makes your expression darker and you see red. You remove your hand, now moist and smelling strongly of her. You pop open the button of your jeans and push it down with your boxers only enough to get the job done. Her hands reach for you, but you swat them away before pinning them above her head. No words are exchanged as you nudge her legs open and pound into her, only the sound of her yells and your ragged panting the buffer between you.

You don't make love, you fuck. You fuck her like a savage, plundering newfound depths and making her loud cries bounce off the walls and alert the neighbors. Fuck her until her voice is rough and there is barely any air left in your lungs. Run your rhythm like the angry beat of your pulse. Slam her back against the wall with every thrust of your hips and don't think about the bruises that will appear on her tomorrow, or the ones in your ego. When she begins to slip down, having no more strength to keep upright, grip her thighs tight until your fingerprints make dark imprints on the expanse of them and shove her back up. Use her unbridled cries as fuel: grind your hips mercilessly against hers until her wetness makes your lap sticky. Hear the vicious slapping of your skin against hers, revel in it. The orgasm is blinding and violent for her, satisfying for you. Jesus. What a fucking night. As you pant like dog, your forehead slumped against her shoulder now, you hear her tell you you're the only one she wants.

Later, you slump down the walls, growling into her ear that no man can fuck her like you can. Even later, the neighbors knock on your door. "Was there a problem?" They ask hesitantly, surprised to see Juvia come up behind you looking like a cat that ate the canary with that fucking smirk on her face. "No, none at all." You assure the well-meaning neighbors, slinging an arm across Juvia's shoulders. "We're fine."

> _**cinq** _

Seduce her, like you've never bothered to before. Tonight, it's not quick or spontaneous but languorous and sweet. You buy her favorite wine, put on the nice, silk sheets and fill the tub. When she comes home, aching everywhere from a long day of work, note the surprise on her face, the happiness. Relieve her of her stress by serving her dinner, letting her talk about what went wrong and what didn't. Tonight is not about you. When you take her to bed, draw the pleasure out. Undress her carefully, looking at every inch of skin you uncover with worshipping eyes. Move tantalizingly slow until she's aching for you and almost sobbing from it. Touch everywhere; be eager to please. By now, you should know what makes her scream and what makes her toss her head back in oblivion. Use that knowledge, but discover something new. Like how she likes it when you switch your cadence up and do that thing where you swivel your hips before driving into her.

When she lays spent under you and she asks you what bought that on, tell her simply it's because she's amazing and she deserves it.

> _**six** _

Make love to her fiercely. Not possessively, or angrily. Not wildly, or insensitively. You make love to her as if it's the last time, because it almost was. Three way collision. The other two drivers are dead. Somehow, she is spared. For weeks you keep vigil by her bed, your tears out of reserve but you still slashed yourself apart with worry. When you take her home after a month, she pulls you into bed. "I've missed you," she tells you, carding pale fingers through your hair in a show of comfort. You sob into her neck, relieved now, that you still had her, thank God. You make love slowly. Let desperation cloud over you, because the morbid thoughts that had plagued you have made you a very desperate man. You treasure her, you tell her there's no more life without her. When you come together, it feels like home.

> _**sept** _

Make jokes in bed. Sex isn't supposed to be serious all the time. You appreciate good humor in a woman, and you love it when it bleeds into the bedroom.

When she pulls your boxers down, make sure there is a pair of googly eyes glued to your crotch, just above your limp dick. Tell her, "It's an elephant. His name Turk, and he's unhappy." In your most deadpan and factual voice. Don't say anything as she stares at you with wide eyes until peals of laughter make her tremble and she falls off the bed and clutches at her stomach. Wait until she joins you in bed again, trying her hardest to hold back the giggles. "I better make Turk happy now, don't I?" She asks seriously, mirroring your lack of expression. Then she descends on your erection that is slowly coming to life. It's your turn to laugh now, as she pumps and sucks and occasionally stops to make half-hearted elephant noises. Don't wait for her to finish: drag her up and sit her on your happy elephant, both of you now mimicking what was supposed to be a couple of horny elephants in the throes of passion. Find your release as she is shuddering with laughter above you.

> _**huit** _

Do it in the strains of the morning, when you wake up to the feeling of soft, warm hands stroking you to wakefulness, and open your eyes to her blue ones boring into you, twinkling with sleepy mischief. You kiss her: a chaste peck first, then an indulgent one where you have to lick her lips to ask for entry. Flip her over, until your weight is pressing down on her. Ignore the sheets that tangle uncomfortably around you.

Listen to her sigh as you push inside her, her muscles that are already lax from sleep uncoiling even more. Move your hips in an easy regularity, your whole body lazy atop hers but moving just enough to rub deliciously against hers. Feel her hands too weak to grab at your shoulders so she settles for running them up the length of your back. Soothing. Warm. That is today's theme.

Pepper kisses on places you can reach without having to make too much an effort. Lick at the space along her jaw. Brush tentative kisses above her breasts. Think of how nervous you were the first time. Settle your cheek against where her heart thumped strongest until you feel that sweet, gentle release. Roll off as you exchange yawns and good mornings. Dress for work, join each other at the table and talk over breakfast.


End file.
